Page 185 of A Touch of Stars and Stones
“Micah?” I look at the cell door—to freedom—and then back to Micah.
“We had to wait until your little tricks wouldn’t work. You feel it, that drain on you. All gone.”
“The new moon.” I frown.
“Well done.” He starts a slow, mocking clap. “You can be taught.” His words cut deep with no armour in place against him. This isn’t the Micah I know. “Now, what else have you learned?”
“Micah, you’re scaring me. Let’s just go, okay.” I step to the side, but he mirrors my movement, blocking me.
“Well, here’s the problem with that.Wearen’t going anywhere. You, though, will be.”
“Cut the crap, Micah.” My magic might not flare, but my anger still can.
“There, there, not getting your own way, Ever?” He paces back past the cell door as if guarding it. “You know, you almost had me feeling bad for what I’ve done until your lover-boy needed help, and then, well, it didn’t matter who was in your way. You’d roll over anyone to get what you needed.”
“What are you talking about?” My stomach swarms with a paralysing mix of fear and rage. He isn’t making any sense.
“Power, Ever,” he shouts at me, “I’m talking about power.” I still.
“I didn’t ask for my power, Micah. You know this. You’ve seen that from the start. I’d give it back if I could,” I defend, my lips trembling as the realisation that he’s not here to help dawns, an unwelcome light in the darkness.
“Because it’s all about you. You, you, you, and you don’t even realise why!” he screams, backing me up until I’ve retreated against the stone wall. “You are the very thing that the likes of me hate.Despises,” he sneers, looking me over with a lift to hislip as if he’s disgusted. No trace of the friend who helped me from the first time I met him.
“What, why?”
“You think it’s fair that Kyra is treated as little more than a slave because her power is small? She can’t create forcefields, teleport, or conjure storms, so she is relegated to menial tasks. The same will happen to me. Probably Ravi, too. While you, well…”
“I don’t?—”
“Shut up! It’s my turn now.”
“Micah, please. This isn’t you.” My mind races, trying to make sense of all of this. Is he jealous? He’s been helping me. Pulling books, giving me information... “You’ve helped me. You’re my friend,” I repeat, hoping he’ll remember and checking on my own memory.
“Helping you?” he scoffs. “You don’t see it, even now. I was never helping you, Ever. I only wanted you in a position where I couldcontrolyou. With all that power, you were still too weak, too stupid to see.”
What?I am not weak.
His words slowly clear, and as if sharpening with the fury now pulsing down my fingertips, I clench my fingers into a fist, and I explode, swinging hard and fast, making sure I check off all the points Calix taught me.
My knuckles break across Micah’s cheek, and he falters, stumbling back and giving me a foot of room to dash for the door. But unlike in training, he gets the better of me and slams into my side, sending me crashing into the bars.
“No. Not happening. I’ve waited too long for this. And today, you won’t better me.”
He hauls me from the bars, throws me to the ground, and my hands catch me on the cold floor, stained with blood.
I reach for any sense of power to counter, but there’s nothing. Nobody is helping me except myself.
But Ten made sure I wasn’t defenceless. Calix trained me. He fought me, and he beat me so that I would be able to fight back.
I push up off the floor and force my mind to calm, just like Kyra taught me.Kyra?No. I can’t doubt her now. I won’t. And reach for the calmness at my core to be able to get myself out of this. It’s only Micah. I can beat him and ask questions later.
I jump up and give myself room as I circle my opponent—my friend.
He tilts his head before jabbing forward and swinging for a punch. It lands, but it’s nothing like Calix’s, and I bring my left and right arms in for a counter one, two, then I drop and swing my leg, knocking Micah to the ground.
Scrambling, I lurch towards the door, but fierce fingers grab my ankle and yank me back, sending me nose-diving to the ground again. Pushing up with trembling arms, I crawl and clamber to standing, but Micah beats me, blocking the way out.
“Why, Micah?” The question tears from my throat with all the hurt now pumping around my body. When I thought I had nobody, he was there, offering me a guiding hand. A laugh. Why bother if he hated me from the start?
